Unanswered: Fate's Variant Series
by WhiteRabbity
Summary: When Detective Jonah Devonshire is transferred from Saynor to Portland, he never expected his new partner to be a Grimm.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Roads Untraveled

_Hundjäger!_

The scent caught him off guard, to say the least, and Jonah only just managed to keep his reaction in check. He rose, careful to keep his face a blank mask. He straightened his jacket and glanced about, finding some small comfort in the fact that whomever had left the scent was long gone. Still, the stench practically covered the crime scene, and some primal instinct threatened to shear through his calm façade and make him flee as quickly as possible.

It was a clear night in Saynor, with the nearly-full moon shining down on the city filled with demons and mortals. The sign for the Science and Research Building of Saynor College was burned out, with only the 's' of 'science' and the first 'e' in 'research' occasionally flickering a painful blue light. It contrasted with the deep red of blood on the pavement, right outside the office doors and covering the victim. Said victim was Corey Lewis, a professor at the college and administrator of the Science and Research Building. The blood was from a wound- well, many wounds- to his stomach, chest, and neck. It hadn't been quick.

Jonah noticed his partner, Detective Ford, waiting by the edge of the tape, staring him down. He quickly made his way over to her. The scowl on her face told him that he hadn't been quick enough. "Thanks for waiting up, Devonshire."

He caught the sarcasm in her voice and nodded sheepishly. "Sorry about that. It seems we need to work on our team dynamic."

"We?"

"… mostly me." Pick your battles, he reminded himself, forcing his hands to unclench. _You _are_ rather irritable tonight. Blame it on the Hundjäger. _

Ford nodded, lifting up the tape. "I'll take over looking around, if you want to talk to the witness?"

For once, her spotlight-craving was appreciated, and Jonah agreed. _Anything to get away from that._

The ambulance was parked away from the police cars, far enough that the stench was not so apparent. A disheveled woman sat in the back with a blanket draped around her shoulders. "Excuse me, Miss Bronson? Might I have a moment of your time?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes a bit. "Can I go home soon? I just, I need to sleep."

"This won't take long, ma'am," he replied gently. The first time, seeing someone taken from life like this, it was never easy. This woman was handling the situation a lot better than he had at the time. "If you could just go over what happened, we'll get you home all the sooner."

She nodded, calming slightly at the prospect of returning home. She cast a glance over at the flashing lights from the cruisers. "I was just ending my shift- I'm a technician, Professor Lewis was overseeing my work. I had to stay behind and submit some paperwork, so he told me goodnight and walked out. Next thing I know, there was screaming and I ran downstairs and he just-" She breathed in sharply, closing her eyes tight. "You see what I saw."

He nodded, mentally adding her statement to his hypothetical case file. "Did you see anyone you didn't know around the office today, or maybe earlier in the week?"

The lab tech shook her head, then hesitated. "There's a new guy who delivers the lab equipment. You know, test tubes, beakers, Bunsen burners, that kind of thing. He's been around four times this week."

Jonah frowned. "Is this unusual?"

"Well, sort of. We don't normally need so many, but there were several accidents this week, stuff was broken."

"By whom?"

"…I'm not sure."

He stood a bit straighter, satisfied that she most likely wouldn't know much else, and that she was truthful with what she did divulge. "Thank you, Miss Bronson. You'll need to go to the station to give your full statement, but that can wait until the morning. If you can think of anything else," He searched his pocket and produced a business card, which he offered to her. "Please don't hesitate to call."

She accepted it, drawing the blanket a little tighter around her shoulders and otherwise not acknowledging the gesture. The sadness was going to hit her in full, soon. He hoped she was close enough with someone that would help her through it.

Jonah strode back to the crime scene warily, pausing to study the people going to and from: several beat cops, Ford gathering evidence from around the body, some people from forensics, a couple of civilians milling around the edge of the tape. He frowned: his Captain was nowhere in sight. A high-profile case such as this, he most certainly would've come out. Strange.

Ford caught sight of him and waved him over. She handed him an evidence bag with what looked like torn paper inside, though the writing was hard to decipher from the blood soaked in. "Found that in what used to be the victim's jacket pocket. We'll need to send it to the lab, get them to clean it up."

Jonah nodded, handing it off to one of the forensic investigators who passed. After a brief explanation, he sent him on his way and turned back to Ford. "Any sign of a murder weapon?" _Probably won't find one._

She shook her head, confirming his suspicion. "No, but it doesn't look like he was stabbed. More like clawed, maybe bitten."

"I would agree with you, but look around. No animal tracks, no blood trails. Also, if it was a kind of wolf or something, it wouldn't have left the body as intact as it is." As he spoke, he wondered why a Hundjäger would kill like this. Their kills were usually clean: professionals preferred firearms to their natural weapons. _So perhaps an amateur? Or maybe it was personal?_

Ford nodded, focusing on the corpse. "Strange case," she remarked. Jonah nodded in agreement. "Anything useful from the witness?" They began to walk to the edge of the crime scene as Jonah explained the information Miss Bronson had given him. "So, not much then."

"Well, the equipment delivery truck may be a lead. May as well look into it, as well as exactly what's going on in that lab."

"What, you think the professor was up to something less-than-legal?"

"Maybe. Let's keep our theories open, though." This was good: actual discussion with his usually-hostile partner. Maybe they could actually make this work, which would be a feat in of itself.

"Getting ahead of yourself, as always, Jonah. Wait for the evidence." _Or, maybe not._

As they reached the car, Jonah's phone buzzed in his pocket. Seeing the exasperated look on Ford's face, he gestured toward the car. "You go on ahead, I'll catch a cab later."

"Night, partner," she muttered, and was gone soon after.

His phone buzzed again as she drove away, and Jonah finally answered it. "Devonshire."

"Hey, Jonah," Captain Roth greeted. "Sorry I couldn't get out there, I have something to talk to you about, it's urgent."

Jonah spied a bench not too far away and strode over to it, sitting practically for the first time that day. "Sir?"

"I want to run it by you before I put anything in, but how would you like a transfer?"

"A… transfer? Why?" Jonah frowned at the news, glancing around at the familiar buildings.

"For some bureaucrat who wants to screw with the line-up. We're required to send at least one detective up to Portland. Honestly, I think it might be a better fit for you than Saynor."

"…what makes you say that?"

He could hear his captain shift uncomfortably from the other end of the line. "Look, you're one of my best detectives, Jonah, but let's face it: you don't get along with anyone at the precinct, maybe even the whole damn city."

"Including you?"

"Especially me. You are, putting it mildly, the most distant person I have ever met. It makes dealing with you really frustrating at times. Yet you close the most cases, 'cause you're clever and have a drive that puts you leagues above anyone else."

This was all true. _Maybe a little too true._ "So you're sending me away because… I'm not a team player."

Roth's huff of annoyance crackled through the speaker. "See, this is my point. First of all, I am asking you, but have half a mind to order it without being courteous. Second, I chose you for this because you're the best, and Portland needs you more than Saynor."

Jonah snorted. "Exactly how much crime is there in Portland?"

"More and more. That place has a worse crime rate than Saynor has ever had, and that's only in the last couple of years. I'm friends with a captain down there, and he predicts that it's only gonna get worse. And, as it turns out, his precinct has a temporary opening."

The detective sighed, running his hand over his hair. "Fine, it makes sense. But, is it possible for me to leave soon? As in, leave-this-case-to-someone-else soon?"

"Why, what's wrong?"

Jonah lowered his voice significantly. "_Hundjäger_. Scent's all over the scene."

There was silence from the other end for a few seconds. Roth knew that Jonah was Wesen from the first moment they had met, and vice versa. However, they were both rather private about that side of their life, so neither of them pressed to find out exactly what the other was. _Wouldn't have been able to tell him anyway. _But both policemen had had run-ins with Hundjäger in the past and knew of the dangers in dealing with them. Roth was especially aware of Jonah's nearly overwhelming fear of them. "I'll assign whoever takes over with Ford to the case. You can leave before the week's end, with time off to prepare, starting now."

Jonah couldn't help smirk at the idea of leaving Ford behind once and for all. "Very well. Thank you for calling, sir, before you put in the transfer."

There was quiet from the captain, as if he were mulling the gratefulness over.

"I'm gonna miss you, kid."

Then, the line went dead before Jonah could respond.

**Hi everyone! Just so you know, this is a revised version of a story I started last year, called _Fate's_ Variant, on another account. I'm hoping to actually complete the story this time around, along with adding in new events from the current and past season. Anyway, let me know what you think. ~White Rabbit**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Introductions

"He should be arriving today, Sean."

Captain Sean Renard of the Portland PD nodded. "And you're sure that I can trust this detective?"

There was a pause from Captain Roth's side and Renard sighed. With all the dramatic pauses this man was capable of, it was hard to tell whether something was actually wrong or not. "Of course. He is, or was, the best detective I've had in years."

"Very well. How's Monica?"

"She's doing well, thank you for asking." Renard could hear the happiness in the older man's voice. His wife had recently come back from the hospital, where she had been incapacitated for some time after a heart attack.

"Tell her I said hello."

"Of course. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

Renard smirked and hung up the phone. It was a running joke between them, 'don't be a stranger'. They both had their work, official and not-so-official. It was hard to be more than a stranger with just about anybody. It was miracle that Roth and Monica were still together, in Sean's opinion.

There was a knock at the door, two quick raps. "Come in."

The door opened, and Wu leaned in, his usual tired but humorous expression written across his face. "There's a Detective Devonshire from Saynor here to see you, cap'n."

Renard nodded wordlessly, pocketing the phone.

A tall man entered, eyes wandering the office for a moment before resting on Renard. He wore a suit, not atypical for a detective in Portland but not as common as in other cities. He was still relatively young, about thirty years old, but if there was anything Roth had stressed in his description of Portland's new detective, it was that he was anything but inexperienced or untalented.

Renard stood. "Welcome to Portland, detective."

Jonah gave him a thin smile and held out a hand. "Happy to be here, captain."

They shook hands, and Renard noticed the barely concealed look of distaste on the other's face. Annoyed, he wondered what that was about, but decided to let it go. "Have you had a chance to meet your new partner yet?"

"Um, no, not yet," he replied, his face clearing. "I'm afraid I don't know what he looks like… or his name…"

"Right. You'll be partnered with Burkhardt, and he…" Renard frowned, glancing out the window and seeing Nick's desk empty. "He must be out on a case. Should be back soon."

Jonah nodded, opening his mouth to ask some question or another, when Nicholas Burkhardt entered the precinct.

-break-

Jonah really didn't know what to make of the captain, having only known him for all of thirty seconds, but he could definitely tell that he was Wesen. Not only that, but a one that smelt of death and decay and a hidden nervousness that reflected his own. Of course, that most likely couldn't be helped, so Jonah decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and back off.

He'd been just about to ask what had happened to Burkhardt's previous partner when the Captain's face flickered with recognition of someone behind him, so he turned to look.

A shorter man, about his age, was leading a far taller man away in handcuffs. It was clear that the suspect's nose was broken, and the detective looked exhausted as he handed his arrest over to a few officers who would escort him to a cell. He, however, seemed to not have a scratch on him.

He passed Wu, who stood by the coffee machine. Words were exchanged, and Wu gestured to Renard's office. Looking curious, the detective strode over and opened the door.

"Nick, come on in," Renard welcomed, sitting down at his desk, gesturing for them both to sit as well. Glancing curiously at each other, Nick and Jonah took a seat. "This is your new partner, Jonah Devonshire."

"Oh, yeah," Nick had only just remembered that Hank's temporary replacement was arriving today. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," Jonah replied uncomfortably. He'd never been good at introductions, and it was clear that Renard was scrutinizing his every move. So, he dropped the introduction and turned back to the Captain. "Um, do we have a case?"

"Depends. Nick, how did the McKay murders case turn out?"

"Pretty well, I'd say," he replied, hint of a smile on his face. "Case; closed."

"Really?" Renard couldn't help but be impressed. Nick had only received the case earlier that day. "That was fast. I'll assume that was the suspect you led in here?"

Nick nodded. "Turns out, it was a robbery gone wrong, perpetrated by one of the neighbor's kids, Jacob Tull." He rubbed the back of his neck like it was sore. "Once we caught him, he confessed to everything. That along with the forensic evidence made the case solid."

"Hmm. Well, that's great. Since you're on a roll today apparently, want another case?"

"Sure."

Jonah nodded, unsure if the question was also directed at him.

"You're in luck. A call just came in from Truman Bank not long ago. Robbery and homicide. Wu is heading over there too to fill you in."

The detectives stood, but Nick gestured for Jonah to head out while he loitered by the door. Jonah gave him a funny look, but continued on his way.

"Something else, Nick?"

"Uh, yeah, have you heard from Hank in, say, the last hour or so?"

"No, I have not," Renard muttered, half-distracted as he sifted through a stack of files on his desk. "Why?"

"Well, that last case? The guy kinda put up a fight and my phone was, well, another casualty."

"I see. I'm sure he's fine," Renard tried to reassure him. Nick had this bad habit of mother-henning people who tended to not need someone hovering over their shoulders. Besides, it wasn't like Hank Griffin was somewhere dangerous; he was in Maine, helping some aunt or another care for an ailing relative. He'd be back anytime between a few weeks to a few months, then he would be reinstated as Nick's partner, and Jonah would find someone else. "Anyway, best head off. I doubt Detective Devonshire knows where the garage is."

-break-

"So, where exactly are we going?" Jonah asked once they were in the car. He was always on edge when he didn't know his way around an unfamiliar place, the 'unfamiliar place' specifically being the entirety of Portland.

But as his new partner pulled out and explained what he knew of the case, Jonah didn't understand why his scent was vaguely familiar. He'd never met Detective Burkhardt before, of that much he could be sure, but still… a tug of doubt remained in the back of his mind.

Jonah forced the thoughts back and focused on what Nick was saying. In any case, he was willing to give his new partner a chance, maybe the Captain too. Maybe even this city.

He noticed dark clouds gathering at the skyline and felt his spirits drop slightly.

_Maybe if this damn weather lets up, I'll give this place a chance._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Damnatio Memoriae

The car ride went pretty well, in Nick's opinion, though Devonshire offered very little input into the case, instead opting to stare out the window and throw Nick a glance every once in a while, which Nick took as an indication that he didn't know what to say. Still, he was a good listener, and took the sparse details of the case that Nick already knew. After that, the drive was conducted mostly in silence.

Finally, they pulled up in front of Truman Bank, and it began to rain. _I knew it,_ Jonah thought in annoyance, hunching his shoulders and hoping not to get too wet. He already had a sense that his presence was making Detective Burkhardt uncomfortable, but he'd never been a people-person and hoped that his new partner would understand, unlike Ford had when they were first assigned to work together. _Can you at least try to make small talk? It's like I'm speaking to a wall or something, Jesus._ Yeah, this had definitely gone better than that.

A sergeant stood just outside the doors, umbrella in hand, a cocky smile on his face while he watched them approach. "Hey, Nick. And…other."

"Wu, this is Detective Devonshire. He's filling in for Hank while he's away. Jonah, this is Sergeant Wu."

"Yep, we met at the station. Sort of." Wu didn't lose the smile. _Probably a people-person. _Then, the trio made their way inside the building.

The building was new in terms of architecture, but whoever had built it went to great lengths to make it appear old, with a ceiling painted with clouds and stars, and bricks were practically everywhere, the walls, the steps, even the tellers' booths. Witnesses had been shepherded to the far side of the bank, where there was several benches and officers taking statements. There were about thirty-five witnesses, and someone had had the foresight to not put them outside when a storm was coming. _Poor planning, though, to leave them in the same room as the body._

The victim was a teller, who was slumped behind her booth, a single bullet wound to her temple. A gun with a small caliber, it seemed, and not a through-and-through. Jonah put on gloves, crouched beside the body, and studied her while still listening to Wu in the background.

"About an hour ago, employees and patrons were going about their day when three people with masks and pistols run in and order everyone to the ground. They each take different tellers, ask for money. Weird thing, they all ask for different amounts. Anyway, the victim, Jennifer Matthews, tries to slip a dye pack into the bag and the perp sees her, kills her immediately, and runs out without the money. The other two did make off with theirs, though."

Jennifer's hands were stained purple from the dye pack, and so was the counter. She looked young, probably late twenties or early thirties, with blonde hair and tanned skin about the same tone as Jonah's. She had been a Wesen of some sort, the scent still hung in the air, but that hardly mattered now. He glanced over at Nick, who was also inspecting the body at this point, but who was looking more at her hands. "Look. Blue paint over the purple dye."

Jonah frowned at this discovery. "Looks more like plastic. What could she have touched after the dye pack?"

"His mask…" a voice called over, and Jonah stood, seeing that it came from where the witnesses were gathered. The one who had yelled was a short, older man with thick glasses and a shaky voice. "She scratched his mask right before… she was such a brave girl…"

"Calvin Morris. One of the other two tellers," Wu muttered and Nick stood.

Nick and Jonah both walked over to the man, which Jonah found peculiar as he was used to splitting the job with other partners he had in the past. But Nick hadn't said anything to the contrary, so he guessed this was how he worked with his other partner.

"Mr. Morris, I'm Detective Burkhardt, this is Detective Devonshire. What can you tell us about what happened?" Nick asked, his voice calm and reassuring.

Morris retold basically what Wu had already said up until Jennifer tried to put the dye in the bag. "That monster saw her and he kept, kept saying he would kill her, and Jenny just went for him, trying to stop him." The man dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve, staring up at both of them. "Thirty years I've worked here, the building's been robbed six times, and this is the only time anyone's died. Why did it have to be Jenny?"

"Were you and Jenny close, sir?" Jonah asked quietly, sure that speaking in even a normal tone would upset the man even more and he would become incoherent. He was sure Morris wanted to help, but there was only so much time before grief really set in.

The teller looked over at the detective, seeming surprised that he had spoken. "Yes, yes, she was like a daughter to me. Her mom and her didn't talk anymore, her father, well, she never said. But she didn't have any real family, no one who would care." He said these last words with some spite, angry that no one would care about the girl he considered family.

Nick saw this and took note. "You care, Mr. Morris, and so do we. We're going to find who did this to her, but we need your help with that. Can you remember what any of them looked like? Their masks?"

The witness seemed to compose himself a bit and nodded. "Two of them had blue masks, and one had red. They looked like wolf masks, but they were, were disturbing. It's, it's hard to explain. I'm not sure what else I can think of, I'm sorry."

"Thank you, sir. If you can think of anything else, please call," Nick said, handing the miserable man a card with his number on it. "We're very sorry for your loss."

They spoke with Wu briefly, telling him what they found, before saying goodbye and walking out to the car. It was raining harder and the sky was almost as dark as night, so Jonah had no qualms about running to the car.

"Not a fan of the rain?" Nick asked in a joking voice when he got in the car beside Jonah a few moments later.

"Nah. Probably should've thought of that before moving to Portland." He replied with a chuckle.

"Let's head back to the precinct, see if we can find out who the vic's mother is and who sells masks like the ones Mr. Morris described."

"Maybe we could also look at other bank robberies in the area, see if there's a pattern."

Nick nodded, starting up the car. "Good thinking."

_That went pretty well,_ Jonah thought, studying the sky, but he couldn't see any sign of the rain letting up. Nick was obviously a more than competent partner, with good observation skills and instincts. And he wasn't a jerk. If past partners were anything to go off of, that was a bonus.

-break-

In an abandoned building just outside of Portland, Milo Anders received a phone call. After fishing it out from his coat pocket, he frowned at the name: Briar, one of his field agents. But he was out on assignment, monitoring the Grimm. Why would he risk a phone call?

He moved from his position in front of the closet door, nodding to his bodyguard to keep watch. Then, he strode to the other side of the room and answered. "What do you think you're doing?"

The question seemed to take Briar aback for a moment, then his quiet voice muttered into the phone, "You know I wouldn't have called unless it was of the utmost importance."

"Well then, spit it out."

There was another pause and an intake of breath. Milo understood that he was testing the younger man's nerves, but Briar would just have to deal with it. "The Grimm has a new partner, and I recognize him from one of the Verat files."

Milo blinked in surprise. This was important. He'd have to remember not to sell Briar short again. "Is he a former operative? An active one?"

"No, sir. His name's Jonah Devonshire. You'll have to look up the file yourself, because I don't remember much, but I know that they attempted to recruit him when he was young, and the file said he was terminated. That's why I was in the files in the first place, looking for possible sympathizers."

In any other instance, Milo would've praised the boy on his initiative, but the name 'Jonah Devonshire' had struck a chord in the back of his mind. "Listen to me, Briar. You need to be very careful. I'm familiar with this case, and Detective Devonshire is extremely dangerous. Keep your distance."

"Why?" the younger man asked incredulously, as if nothing were more dangerous than he nor his boss. "What is he, Cucuy? Manticore? Siegbarste?"

Milo lowered his voice, so as not to worry his body guard. "He is reported to be Riddari."

The line went silent for so long that Milo thought he had been disconnected. Finally, Briar replied "I will keep my distance." Then, there was a click, and Briar hung up.

_Riddari,_ Milo thought, lowering the phone from his ear. _And a free Riddari at that, not controlled by the Verat or by us. There is nothing more dangerous than indecision._

He strode back to the closet, which held a prisoner whom he wished to interrogate, and then dispose of, himself. Usually, he deferred to his bodyguard, or to Briar's expertise, but this prisoner had been trying to sell a drug to the Verat that had been meant for Milo's organization after the initial development. Another such infidel had been dispatched of earlier that week, at a science lab in Saynor. Milo, unfortunately, had been in Europe at the time and wasn't present for the retirement. This one, he would take pleasure in.

He tried to put the Riddari out of his mind, but in his subconscious, he knew that if Detective Devonshire could not be turned, he would have to be executed.

**In the original story, this was as far as I had gotten. However, there's more to come this time! Stay tuned… and stuff…**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Memory Hole

As it turned out, there were exactly three other robberies in the area that related to Jonah and Nick's case; where the robbers wore brightly colored wolf masks and were in and out in a matter of minutes, taking odd amounts of cash with them. However, in all the other heists, no one met the fate of Jennifer Matthews.

"Maybe they're getting desperate," Jonah muttered to himself, scrolling through the reports. "Willing to step up their game, become more willing to kill."

"Probably," Nick affirmed from his desk. Jonah started, eyes narrowed slightly in surprise that his partner had even heard him. "If I had to guess, I'd say they're in some kind of debt and need the money to pay up."

"Hmm, yeah, maybe. Think the ME would be done with their examination yet?"

As if on cue, Nick's cell phone buzzed. "…guess so. Apparently she found something interesting and wants to see us."

-break-

"What do you mean 'there's no bullet'?"

The ME, Dr. Harper, pursed her lips thoughtfully, handing over a file to a thoroughly confused Jonah. "Exactly that. It wasn't a through-and-through, and there's no sign anyone removed it. It's as if it up and vanished."

Nick frowned, leaning over to study the report as Jonah flipped through it. "Well, anything you can tell about the gun that fired the disappearing bullet?"

"Not much," she mumbled, leaning over the table and turning the corpse's head so that they could clearly see the wound. "It was fired at relatively close range, so the entry wound was pretty messy. But from the track the bullet took, which came to a halt near the back of the Corpus callosum, I can tell that it didn't have a lot of force behind it. Even small caliber guns at such a close range would've been farther back. Also, it appears that the bullet that was fired had no grooves on it, no defining features specific to a manufacturer."

_Doesn't exactly tell us much, _Jonah thought, pausing on the last page. "…and there was no gunshot residue either?"

Harper shook her head, and sighed. "Okay, so we've seen our fair share of weird cases around here lately, but this one's pretty up there. So many things missing that are typical of a crime like this."

Jonah and Nick thanked her, then exited the lab. "So," Nick began, "Should we jump right to the ice bullet theory?"

He smirked, still studying the report and narrowly dodging people as they walked by in the hall. "Nice. I doubt this was some kind of conspiracy though. Though…"

"What is it?" Nick pressed, keeping pace.

_Could be Wesen, _Jonah thought to himself, then dismissed the thought. The facts didn't add up to that, and every strange case couldn't be accounted for by Wesen. Also, he was hardly going to share the thought with Burkhardt. "In the other robberies. Tellers have tried to play hero, or run, or hit the alarms. But none of them are dead. So, why her?"

Nick was quiet for a moment, seeming deep in thought as he opened the doors and stepped out onto the street. "…She knew who it was?"

"That's what I'm thinking," Jonah confirmed, finally closing the file and following Nick outside. "I think it's time we talked to Jennifer's mother."

-break-

In a café across the street from the Portland Medical Examiner's office, Briar Laughlin discreetly leafed through a file on the metal table in front of him. He wasn't anything special to look at; he had light hair, dark eyes, wore unassuming jeans and a T-shirt. He appeared young enough that at his first choice stakeout location- a bar beside the café called O'Keefe's- they had asked for ID. Normally, he wouldn't care, but he didn't want the scrutiny of the uppity bartender.

Devonshire's file was strangely sparse. Those he worked for usually kept meticulously detailed documents, as did the Verat, of whom they at copious amounts of stolen information. However, this one specifically…

Disgusted at the incompetence of whoever wrote the file, he shut the folder and sat back.

_Subject is confirmed Riddari: biological great-grandfather was a former Verat operative. Kehrseite adoptive family (presumably). Rejected employment by the Verat at age thirteen (13). Current whereabouts: stationed in __Saynor City, WA__ Portland, OR, as a detective. Alliances: none._

"Useless," Briar hissed to himself, then glanced around. No one had heard him, nor seen his face shift temporarily to take on the aspects of wolverine in his annoyance.

He nearly missed the two detectives exit the office. Briar calmly picked up a newspaper and pretended to read it, all the while staring them down.

They were chatting like they'd worked together for years, not taking any notice of their surroundings. _Probably about that case they're working on. _Devonshire paused by a bench and gestured for the Grimm to go on ahead of him, fishing in his pocket for his phone. Burkhardt nodded and set off for the car.

Briar frowned, leaning forward slightly to hear when was going on. He wished that he'd had time to clone the Riddari's cell phone. _I've got to do that soon._

As Devonshire began to walk down the street as he talked, Briar set down his newspaper and followed suit.

-break-

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jonah! How's it goin'?"

Jonah frowned at the cheerful voice. "…Des? How'd you get this number?"

"Oh-ho, nice to hear from you too," Des replied sarcastically, as was his way. "I'm just great. I mean, it really just made my day that my little brother moved and didn't tell me, and I had to hear all about it from your captain. Oh, sorry, _former captain_."

"Look, I'm sorry," Jonah replied, guilt creeping into his voice. "Things have been really, really busy lately."

"Uh-huh. Figured. How're you liking Portland?"

"So far? It's not bad. The rain, I could use a little less of," he observed, eyes flickering to the re-darkening sky.

"Should've thought about that before moving there," Des remarked, unconsciously echoing what Jonah himself had already said.

"Yeah, yeah. What've you been up to lately?"

"Well, I've got a pretty steady gig with the New York Times."

"Really?"

"No, dork, I'm still freelancing it. Actually, there's an opening for a paper near Portland, figured I might drop by, see the sights…"

"And check up on me," Jonah clarified.

"Yep, that too. I'm gonna be in town in a few days, with Holly." Holly was Des's daughter. Holly's mother had divorced Des not long after she was born, and they shared custody, along with remaining somewhat friends with him. "She wants to see her favorite uncle, Jonah."

"I'm her only uncle, Desmond."

"Exactly. So? Where're you staying? We'll drop by."

Jonah relayed the address, then paused by a street corner. "Des, I need for you to do something for me."

Desmond, sensing a more serious note in his brother's voice, replied immediately. "What's wrong?"

"It could be nothing," Jonah reassured him, watching the cars pass by. "But I think I recognized… someone. I need for you to bring the book."

There was silence from the other end of the line for several seconds. "…are we talking about _that _book?"

Jonah couldn't help roll his eyes. "No, the other book you're shifty talking about. You know what I mean, just bring it, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing, man." There was a high voice in the background, then laughter. "Holly says hi. And something about a movie. Did you say you would take her to a movie?"

"Yeah, last time I saw you guys. Don't worry, I will."

Jonah discreetly shifted his gaze so that he looked across the street, where another man stood at another street corner. The nondescript man had been following him since he'd walked out of the lab with Nick, and Jonah could smell him from here, and he honestly had a scent worse than Renard did. But he was good at stalking, and that was troubling.

"I have to go," he muttered into the phone, then hung up, hearing Des's farewell cut off.

When he looked up again, the man- Briar Laughlin, though Jonah didn't know his name- had vanished.

**First chapter actually written- not just revised- since the super long hiatus. Thoughts, good or bad? Also, thank you guys for coming back to read the revised version!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Twists and Turns

Missy Matthews lived just outside of Portland, in a run-down little house with an overgrown yard and a single, dying tree. Jonah stepped beyond the peeling white gate, narrowing his eyes at the house. Jennifer Matthews had been Wesen, and there was a good chance her mother was as well. What she was, or how she would react to him, couldn't be divined.

Perhaps he would've caught the distinctly mouse-like scent had he not been distracted, worrying who the man who had been following him had been. For now, he tried to put the incident out of his mind.

Nick knocked twice on the door, and it opened a fraction. A short woman who bore a striking resemblance to the victim peeked out, her eyes rimmed red. "What do you want?"

"Miss Matthews? Detective Burkhardt and Devonshire, Portland PD. Would you mind if we-"

"You want to talk about Jenny," she finished for him, sniffling. "I already got the call. She's really gone?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Nick confirmed gently.

Missy nodded twice, then opened the door a bit more. "Come in, then." She peered suspiciously up at Jonah as he passed, but otherwise seemed to take no notice of anything unusual._ So what if he's Wesen, _she thought numbly, shutting the door behind them. _Just detectives. They just wanna help._

She led them into a cluttered little living room, where she gestured for them both to sit. Once they both declined the offer of a drink, she sat down across from them on a separate sofa. "How can I help?"

Jonah and Nick exchanged a look, and Nick was the one who began. "We only have a few questions, then we'll get out of your hair. Do you know of anyone who might've wanted to hurt Jennifer?"

The woman frowned questioningly. "But… she died in a bank robbery."

"There's a chance that Jennifer knew her killer," Jonah clarified, knowing that they really had no evidence to back this theory up, and that the mother was probably the only link.

The woman sniffled again, swallowing hard before responding. "I, I don't think so." She stared hard at the ground. "We weren't very close, these last few years…"

"It's okay, ma'am. Just anything you can remember."

"Well… perhaps Kevin. Kevin Woods. He was her boyfriend a while back? Wasn't a nice boy, got arrested a few years back. Drugs or the like." She retrieved a handkerchief and blew her nose loudly.

Nick nodded, taking a mental note of this. "Thank you, Ms. Matthews. Anything we can do?"

_He's attempting to stay on her good side, _Jonah noticed as the woman glanced up gratefully. _She doesn't have anyone who really cares._

"No, thank you, detective," she negated, but still seemed a bit less hysterical.

As they strode back to the car, Jonah asked "Should we be looking into this Woods character?"

"Definitely. Let's pay him a visit."

-break-

Kevin Woods wasn't home. It appeared he hadn't been home in some time. The apartment was bare, abandoned, save for a few bags of ancient take-out in the fridge. The landlord was naturally confused, since he had been making his payments all on time.

"What do you think?" Nick asked, scrutinizing every inch of the room.

Jonah shrugged, deflated. Any scent was stale, at least a few weeks old, and there was barely anything around to figure out where Kevin Woods was. "Maybe he holed up somewhere else? I mean, the robberies did start a few weeks ago…"

"Hmm, yeah, doesn't explain why the bills keep being paid though."

Jonah paused in the kitchen, in front of the refrigerator. All the scents were old, sure, but there was one specifically out of place. "Hey, Burkhardt. Got a black light?"

Nick didn't, but CSI soon arrived at the scene. When the lights were turned off and the black light shone, part of the floor lit up in front of the fridge.

"Really big blood puddle," Nick observed, glancing at Jonah. "How'd you know it was there?"

He shrugged, turning away and following the blood trail over to the window. "Just a hunch." Jonah snapped the black light off and opened the window, leaning out. Several stories below was a dumpster. Clearly, it had been forgotten by waste management long ago.

On the ground a few minutes later, two CSIs flipped open the lid of the dumpster.

What was left of Kevin Woods stared back at them.

-break-

Briar was bored. After narrowly avoiding detection by the Riddari, he'd trailed the pair a bit farther behind, keeping his distance. But they were just chasing down stuff from this case. _Dull._

Of course, now they'd discovered a body, and things were more interesting. Kevin Woods was just a Kehrseite, but the wounds on his body were clearly made by Wesen. _Not Hundjäger, _he noted, judging by Devonshire's reaction.

Ducking back into the trees, Briar made a call. Not to Milo, not after last time.

"Daily phrase," a feminine voice requested.

"Die Lerche fliegt," he replied, only barely getting the pronunciation right.

The woman huffed in disapproval, but didn't hang up. "What can I do for you, Mr. Laughlin?"

"See if we have a file on a Kevin Woods. A target file, not an operative file."

Several minutes of silence. "Yes, one of our operatives had a personal grudge and requested the Feros' blessing in his execution."

Briar hung up quickly. _Just amazing, _he sighed to himself, peering from between the branches at the detectives. _More complications._

-break-

In an otherwise abandoned warehouse, three men sat around a table, counting out the money. The leader, a man named Roy Sullivan, sulked in his chair.

One of the others nudged him with an elbow. "C'mon, Roy, it's not that bad."

"Bullshit," he snapped, and the other drew back. "Now we've gotta hit another bank to make up for this."

The quiet bank robber, Tyler Sullivan, finally spoke up. "Did you really have to kill Jenny?"

Roy turned to him with a sneer. "Oh yeah, I forgot, you had a crush on the little rat, didn't you?"

Tyler shrugged. If he had felt anything toward her, that feeling died long ago. "I more meant that the cops'll be after us more."

Roy waved the worry away. "Our inside guy said he'd take care of it. Frame someone or whatever."

"Well, he's not gonna be able to do that at a different bank," the youngest Sullivan brother, Mac, piped up.

Roy growled, woging in annoyance. Sharply pointed ears, long snout, and brutal canine teeth. He was a Schakal, as were his brothers, and Roy was pack leader.

"We'll work it out," he affirmed, words garbled by his fangs. "If Morris wants to keep his head, he'll get us the money."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Legacies

"So you think it's Wesen?"

"Oh yeah," Nick confirmed, leaning against the counter in the spice shop while Monroe sorted through the jars on the shelf. Rosalee was in the back, taking inventory. "There's no doubt about that, at least in one of the crimes."

"What, the murder?" Monroe cast a glance at him. "I somehow doubt a human would literally tear someone else apart like that. Though I guess they could…"

"Claws."

"Right, forget I said anything. Wesen, right. Well, that's not really narrowing it down. Plenty of Wesen with claws out there."

"Hmm, yeah." Nick just kind of shrugged, looking tired.

Monroe noticed and set down the final jar, looking a little concerned. "Look, do you know if anyone else involved is Wesen?"

"Not for sure, no. The mother might be, and…"

"And?"

Nick sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "You know how Hank's out of town?"

"Uh, yeah, his aunt's sick or something, right?"

Nick nodded. "Until he gets back, Renard gave me a new partner."

Monroe nodded in understanding. "Ah, and he's a jerk."

"What? No, no, he's okay."

Monroe nodded with much less understanding. "Then…? What's the problem here?"

"I think he might be Wesen."

His friend just looked at him for a moment. "…okay? What's the issue again?"

The look on Nick's face was exasperated, but he kept his voice steady. "Look, Monroe, you're one of the few people I've met who's had a somewhat okay reaction to me being a Grimm. If Jonah finds out…"

_Somewhat okay? I think I handled it pretty well, considering… _He shook it off and continued. "What makes you think this guy is Wesen anyway? Did you see him woge?"

"No, but he knew where a bloodstain was before we got the UV light."

"And you're thinking he _smelled _it? A few-weeks-old bloodstain? That's quite a feat even for Blutbaden, dude." Slightly perplexed, Monroe abandoned all pretense of work and pulled up a chair. "I mean, there's a few I know that could _maybe _be him, but it's a stretch."

After a moment of silence, they both spoke. "Trailer?"

Monroe immediately stood, grabbing his jacket. "Rosalee? Nick and I are going to the trailer."

"See you at home," she called back, hearing the bell clang as the Blutbad and the Grimm left the store.

-break-

_Later…_

Jonah grumbled to himself when a knock sounded from the front door. He'd been up late the night before; going over records, ones on Kevin Woods and any suspicious financial activity. There had been _some_, but nothing out of place for someone with a supposed drug problem. Finally, exhausted and annoyed, Jonah and his new partner had parted ways.

Still annoyed, Jonah dragged himself to the front door and yanked it open, glaring out into the hall. "You know… when you said you'd come visit, I thought you might've called first."

Des grinned, not looking sorry in the slightest. "Not my style. How's it goin'?"

Jonah sighed, opening the door enough so that Des could step inside the apartment. "I've been better. Difficult case right off the bat."

"Yep, you've got that look on your face most people get after being sprayed by a skunk. So it must be bad." Des stepped in, tactfully ignoring that barely anything was unpacked, and a few stacks of boxes sat about. "Holly's not here," he added, catching Jonah staring into the hall in confusion. "I left her at home for today, she's had a long week. Julie's with her, so they'll be fine." Julie was his current girlfriend, and, Jonah suspected, soon to be fiancée. "And I thought we could go over…?"

"What, the book? Um," Jonah closed the door, "what time is it?"

"About four-thirty in the morning."

"…I hate you. Yeah, we can go over it, but coffee is needed before that."

"I couldn't agree more," Des agreed cheerfully, sitting down on a couch and tossing his briefcase onto the coffee table. "Soooo… why'd you need this thing, anyway? You said you recognized someone?"

"Sort of." Jonah set the coffee to brew, casting a glance over his shoulder. "More like, um, whoever owned that book before. Or is related. I'm not sure."

"Really? How can you tell?"

"Scent."

"…right. Not weird at all." Des leaned forward, opening the briefcase and retrieving the book from inside.

The spine was cracked and torn up, the brown and black cover worn until the title was nearly undiscernible from the background. Still, the letters and a crude illustration of what looked like a man with a bird's head was somewhat visible. _A Grimm's Guide to Wesen, H-L._

Jonah paused, pouring the coffee into two mugs. The scent was definitely familiar; whomever owned that book before he did was related to Burkhardt. He made his way over to the couch, handing over one of the mugs. "So it says one of these… Grimm things owned it before?"

"Uh-huh." Des took a sip of the drink, then set it down, flipping the volume open to its first page. "Look, it says 'Property of Marie Kessler, Grimm'. So, who's the creepy-stalker-hunter person in your life?"

"My, ah, partner."

Des stared at him for a moment. "…ohhhh shit. Maybe you oughta skip town. I mean, look at this thing," He rifled through the pages, pausing at the various illustrations of decapitation and disembowelment and other tortures. "This whole thing says how to hurt and kill things like… well, like people like you."

Jonah frowned at him, trying to hide his concern. "Yeah, yeah, I got that, but… look, I'm not sure if this guy's like that."

"Oh, and you know that after knowing him for a _day_? Ugh, whatever man, just try to be careful, yeah?"

Jonah nodded, staring down at the book. "C'mon, Des. When am I not careful?"

**Hi everyone! Sorry for the really… really… really long break. Lots of stuff going on. Also, sorry this is sort of a filler chapter, but I figured I wouldn't keep you guys waiting. Anyway, hope you like it. Hopefully, a new, slightly more insightful chapter will be up soon. **


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